A bookworm, a warlock and a bunch of knights sat 'round a table
by True.Ravenclaw.of.Albion
Summary: How did the stories come to be known to us? Because someone had taken them down, recorded all the exploits of King Arthur and his knights, and of Merlin, the greatest warlock that ever lived, of course! And who wrote these? The warlock's best friend, of course! Rated T for some - inevitable - character deaths. Future pairings to come ...
1. Marketplace hearsay

**A/N: Hello people!**

 **I always thought that Merlin was such a lonely boy, what with his friends dying around him one by one (Will, Lancelot, Arthur and all ...), that my overactive brain decided to cope by making him a new friend. One that would last a bit longer than the others ...**

 **I have been twiddling with this for a loooong time in my head, and it finally felt close enough to completion for me to share it with you. Trust me, having a sassy Merlin prancing around in my head all day long in front of customers is distracting at best! So let's have fun with this!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of its characters, obviously. If I did, Uther would have had a pet bunny.**

* * *

The lower town market was busy today. People everywhere, going about their business, bargaining with the apothecary, eyeing the fruits with a critical expression, loitering around the blacksmith's stall. Drusilla waved a quick hello to Tom as she passed by. Gwen's dad nodded and smiled back, too busy with customers for anything more.

She loved the feeling of busy market days. Everything felt so much more alive than her own dusty and quiet little world. People of every class mixed together to shop and barter. _Unlike the odious prince and his cronies over there_ , she thought, seeing the crowd giving Prince Arthur and his knight friends a wide berth as they walked into the square. She prayed he would not see her, or at least not pick on her today. After the morning she'd endured with her uncle's grouchiness, she had no patience left for his horsing around and his not-as-clever-as-he-thought jokes. Luckily, the prince's attention was on someone else.

"How's your knee-walking coming along?"

She tried to see who Arthur was heckling this time, but no one stood out of the crowd.

"Aw, don't run away!"

This time someone did stand out. A dark haired boy stopped and answered the prince.

"From you?"

Arthur sighed and he and his gang were walking towards the boy, looking for all the world like a pack of wolves hunting a deer.

"Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."

The boy wasn't having it. He turned towards the prince, all defiance.

"Look, I've told you you're an ass. I just didn't realize you were a royal one ... Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy's men to protect you?"

 _Had he really just said what she thought she'd heard him say just now?_ He was brave. Foolish, definitely. Mad, most probably. But brave nonetheless.

Arthur was laughing, his cronies following his example dutifully.

"I could take you apart with one blow."

The boy was not scared, even though she was scared for him.

"I could take you apart with less than that."

Prince Arthur eyed the gangly boy again, trying not to laugh.

"Are you sure?"

He took off his jacket. Now Arthur was laughing in earnest and his goons were getting rowdy behind him.

The boy did not turn around and run, like Drusilla thought he should. Not matter how self-indulgent and narcissistic the prince was, he was also a skilled fighter. She hoped for the boy's sake that he was not as inexperienced as he looked.

"Here you go, Big Man."

Arthur threw him a mace, which the boy let drop on the ground with a clatter.

"Come on then. I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth."

 _The arrogant sod!_ He had only been trained to kill since he was twelve and she knew it very well. The dark haired boy was still smiling, unimpressed, albeit keeping a safe distance between him and the prince.

"Wow. And how long have you been training to be a prat?"

Drusilla let out a giggle as she saw Arthur's face scrunch up. _Had anyone ever told him off like that?_ Not that she remembered, at least.

"You can't adress me like that."

"I'm sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"

Oh. _Ohhh!_ Drusilla was beginning to like this boy and his smart mouth quite a lot. He bowed down and smiled cheekily at the prince. Arthur smiled back, like a deranged man of course, and attacked immediately. The boy dodged amidst the growing crowd.

"Come on then, Merlin. Come on!"

Drusilla tried to follow the pair as they took their fight all around and then right _into_ the shop stalls. The boy was on the defensive, trying not to get maimed by the over-enthusiastic prince who flailed his mace left and right at him. The dark haired boy fell down and the crowd let out a few noises of distress at his predicament.

"Haha! You're in trouble now."

Just as it seemed all was lost for the brave but foolish boy, Arthur's mace got tangled in a pair of overhanging hooks. The prince's momentum broken, he had to take his eyes off his adversary to untangle the mace. Drusilla let out a small sigh of relief. She would hate for the boy to be badly hurt for standing up to the royal bully that was Prince Arthur Pendragon. Meanwhile Arthur, having his weapon back, advanced on the boy again, no longer amused. He was so focused on him that he never looked to the ground, and hit his shin on a box lying there.

"Ow!"

Drusilla laughed, but that little misfortune only made the prince angrier. He charged the other boy again, only to trip on a rope. The boy picked up the prince's fallen mace and suddenly he was the one charging a retreating Arthur. His adversary was swinging his mace wildly, clearly even more inexperienced with weapons than she had thought at first.

"Do you want to give up?"

 _Well! He was a confident fellow, to say the least!_ Arthur eyed him with a little less disdain as he answered.

"To you?"

"Do you? Do you want to give up?"

Arthur backed up as the boy was getting closer, learning how to better swing his mace as he went. The prince stepped in a bucket and fell over. It was not like Arthur to be so clumsy. That was usually her prerogative. The boy seemed distracted from his victory by someone in the crowd and, as his back was turned - a fatal mistake if there ever was one - Arthur picked up a broom and hit him in the back with it - a definitely disloyal move. Two more hits had him on the ground, with guards picking him up roughly between them. The prince made a pacifying gesture at them.

"Wait. Let him go. He might be an idiot, but he's a brave one."

He gave one last' curious look to the gangly boy up close.

"There's something about you Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."

On that, Drusilla had to agree with the prince. There _was_ something about that boy.

* * *

Drusilla could not wait to tell Morgana about the scene she'd witnessed in the market the day before. That young man who had gotten in a brawl with the prince and almost could have won! She hadn't had the clearest view of the whole thing, being on the outskirts of the street market when it happened, but it was sure to make the king's ward laugh loudly. The prince was turning into an annoying bully whose pettiness knew no bounds. Drusilla and Morgana often complained about it, along with Gwen.

The young lady got dressed in a hurry, shrugging on a pale blue dress with delicate vine patterns embroidered at the neck, wrists and hem. She all but ran out of her room, undoing her plait, letting her dark hair fall down her back and running her fingers through it as she went. A hurriedly placed embossed silver circlet on top of her head was all the effort she made to style it properly. A touch of beeswax balm and a bit of pinching on her cheeks did the rest.

The Great Hall was already filled with people, milling about and chatting lightly before the main entertainment began. Slowing down to a pace more suitable to a highborn lady, Drusilla let herself be introduced properly by the herald, then she dashed into the throng of nobles to find her friend.

The lady Morgana was strutting about in a revealing rust colored dress with lovely gold jewelry, smiling at everyone - everyone but the prince - and seducing the whole room. When her eyes met Drusilla's, her smile became more genuine, less enthralling than before, and she went to meet the other girl.

"Drusilla, how lovely to see you, outside of the archives and properly dressed too!"

They hugged.

"Same to you, Morgana! That dress is amazing on you! I can almost hear the men cracking their necks to stare at you from here."

Morgana pulled away from Drusilla and looked her over.

"And you, my dear, look like royalty in this gown. You might just outshine Lady Helen and her crystal voice tonight."

Both girls giggled.

"Oh by the way Morgana, have you heard of the scene in the market yesterday? Some newcomer got into a fight with prince Arthur!"

To say that the lady's interest was piqued would have been an understatement. Her eyes sparkled and she leaned forward inquisitively.

"A newcomer? I like the sound of that ... Especially if he can stand up against the royal idiot, that'll be a real breath of fresh air. Oh! Perhaps it's the same young man Gwen told me about, the one in the stocks the other day!"

"There was a young man in the stocks? Now why did I miss that?"

Before they could speak any more, king Uther came into the hall and invited everyone to take their place for the evening. Drusilla sat down next to her uncle at one of the side tables, eager for Lady Helen's performance to be over and done with. Drusilla cared little for the renowned singer, and she was starving. She had forgotten to eat at midday, too engrossed in her work - again.

"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."

Under the whole room's excited applause, Lady Helen stood at the end of the Hall, on a dais, and began to sing. Her voice was indeed charming, and in no time Drusilla found herself entranced, her mind drifting to faraway places. Her eyes were suddenly heavy, her head drooping as she was lulled to sleep by the haunting melody. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was covered in cobwebs, as well as the rest of the room. Everyone was stirring, now that the siren song of Lady Helen had ended. In the middle of the hall, under a heavy iron chandelier - _had it fallen?_ \- lay an old, broken hag in Lady Helen's beautiful gown. No one had even heard the chandelier falling. _What in the blazes had happened to them?_

Before everyone in attendance could regain their full reflexes, the old witch threw a knife at prince Arthur, and expired.

Faster than she thought possible, someone grabbed hold of the prince's tunic and pulled him out of the way. A dark haired young man, the one from the market brawl!

Drusilla's eyes almost shot out of her head when she realised it, but no one noticed. All eyes were on the king, who had now risen and was focusing his incredulous eyes on the young peasant.

"You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid."

The young man fidgeted under the crowd's stares.

"Oh, well ..."

King Uther carried on.

"Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded."

Drusilla saw the dark-haired boy shake his head negatively all the while.

"No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Highness."

But the king insisted.

"No, absolutely. This merits something quite special."

The prince's savior was slowly relenting, it seemed.

"You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant."

Arthur's objection was drowned in the loud applause that came immediately after the announcement. The prince and his new manservant eyed each other crossly. _Poor sod!_ Dru wanted to laugh at the faces both boys pulled. They seemed equally disgusted by the turn of events.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this is just the first episode, as you've probably noticed, and Merlin hasn't met Drusilla yet. Wonder when that might happen?**

 **R &R to make an author smile!**


	2. Knight Valiant

**A/N: Hi there! Thanks for the reviews, it warms my heart! Here's the second episode!**

 ** **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of its characters, obviously. If I did, Gwen would have had laser eyes!  
****

* * *

The tournament would soon begin. Drusilla hurried out of the castle, again dashing through the crowd in a decidedly unladylike fashion. Her plain, plaid brown dress hiked up to her calves, her fur-lined cape askew and her messy hair flying wildly behind her like one of the knights' banners, the lady ran down the street of Camelot on her way to the stands. She was to be seated next to Lady Morgana and she should be there to applaud the contestants as they made their appearance before the king.

As she finally arrived, red-faced and breathless, and took her place next to Morgana, the king's ward glanced at her friend with a smirk on her face.

"Look who's finally showed up! I knew I should have sent Gwen to wake you this morning. Not only are you almost late, you look appalling in this dress."

Drusilla rolled her eyes and looked behind her with a smile to the lady's maid.

"Oh Gwen would have never found me in bed. I was in the archives, helping Uncle Geoffrey authenticate all the letters of mark. But I wouldn't miss this for the world. All these thuggish knights, this extensive display of violence to prove one's superior masculinity ... It's breathtaking, really!"

Both Gwen and Morgana giggled at Drusilla's sarcastic comment. They always were the funniest part of tournaments.

Moments later, the knights came out and stood in front of the stands. The king stood and discoursed, the usual diatribe about welcoming them to Camelot, testing their bravery and skill, and about the coffer of gold the champion would win. Knight's true nature, warrior or coward and so on and so forth. Drusilla could not be bothered to stay attentive. She scanned the crowd of knights in front of her.

"Don't they look dashing in their matching capes and tunics? Such class as they are about to beat each other senseless with pointy metal things."

Morgana swatted her arm, trying not to laugh in the face of the knights. Some were more interesting than others, in the eyes of the king's ward.

"Some of them do look dashing. Don't you see any that tickles your fancy, Dru?"

The girl looked at the noblemen gathered in the pit. They were all tall and broad of shoulders. Some were bearded and others barefaced, some as young as the prince and others old enough to be her father. Yet they all had a common air of belligerence. They all looked menacing and fierce. The least threatening of them all was Arthur himself, who looked solemn more than hostile. He stood immobile, not the tallest of the bunch by a long shot, and barely acknowledged when his name was spoken by the king. Realizing that Morgana awaited her answer, she turned to hush a whisper to her friend.

"I don't find them attractive as much as terrifying. I wouldn't wish to be caught alone in a deserted alleyway with any one of them!"

Morgana raised a dubious eyebrow but let her friend's little whim pass without further comment. The tournament began.

It wasn't that she didn't find the men handsome, it was that she always found them lacking in some area or other. Arthur was a prime example. He was a very handsome young man, a noble prince, yet he was also a conceited and self-indulgent bully. Most of the knights present at this tournament were either greedy, here for the gold and the glory and the women's adoration, or they were bloodthirsty, only rejoicing in the unhinged violence they could freely rain upon their adversary in the name of the sport. It not only kept her from seeing any other qualities they might have, it rebuked her. Drusilla could not stand such flaws of character, especially in knights, who were supposed to uphold a code of nobility and sacrifice. It seemed to her a great nonsense for them to take part in this barbaric display.

As the first round began, Drusilla noticed a dark haired head popping out at times from the knights entrance. She tore her eyes off the prince's fight, only to find his new manservant observing and encouraging his new master. The Court physician, Master Gaius, stood nearby, ready to interfere should any knight get badly wounded. The old man seemed to know the young manservant and they muttered together often as the day wore on.

"I hope you'll change into something better than this _tablecloth_ for the banquet tonight."

Drusilla sighed, her friend was insufferable sometimes, when it came to dressing up.

"And what shall I wear, milady? I wouldn't wish to outshine your own attire. It's you the tournament champion will escort to the victory banquet, not little o' me."

Flattery always got the king's ward off her back. Drusilla had gotten used to Morgana's good-natured teasing over the years. Unlike the prince, whose teasing was always mean and blunt, she never meant to hurt people's feelings. This was probably the biggest reason why Lady Drusilla and Lady Morgana got along so well.

* * *

That night's banquet was as long and tedious as could be expected with so many nobles in the same room. Drusilla had trouble not letting out a sigh of boredom every time one of the tournament's participants spoke to her. Their favorite subjects being themselves and their fighting skills, it made for stilted conversation at best.

"And here's Camelot's own goblin, out of her archives and washed, no less! Sir Owain, you remember Lady Drusilla of Monmouth, don't you?"

 _And here comes torture._ Arthur and another young knight were almost at her side and she could see the prince's smirk as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Arthur. Glad to see all those numerous blows to the head haven't ruined what little wit you had."

It took him a second too long to retort, by which time she was already greeting the other knight - who, she was bound to admit, had rather nice blue eyes.

"Sir Owain. It's nice to see you, unharmed."

The other knight grinned as she carried on.

"Well now that you've been eliminated, there's no more risk of injury, is there?"

The grin disappeared, replaced by a scowl. Arthur, for his part, was near howling of laughter at their side. Sir Owain had, in fact, been one of the first to be eliminated this afternoon. The proud knight bowed to the prince and the young lady and excused himself with a pout.

Arthur put a hand on her shoulder, still very much amused.

"You are merciless, Drusilla. Don't let that change, you hear me?"

"I'm not merciless, Arthur. I'm not one of your bloody knights, after all."

The prince sobered up.

"You know, the knights are bound by a code of honor tha..."

"I know, I know. I've read the dratted knight's code so many times I can almost recite it in my sleep."

Arthur stopped talking right there. He didn't know the little copyist knew about the knight's code.

"Well. Either way, you have a wickedly sharp tongue, and it's one of your best qualities. Surprising too, in such a noble young lady of good breeding."

He was needling her the best way he knew how. She was far from ladylike - as the whole court would say - and it irked her.

"What's surprising is that men in armor can be broken better with a few well aimed words than with a sword to the chest. Soft hearts the lot of them, aren't they?"

Now she was being downright insulting. Arthur's close company was something she tried to avoid as best she could, tonight being no exception. If she was mean enough, he might go away, to seek ego-flattering praise elsewhere. The prince huffed and turned to leave after one last remark.

"You're in a cheerful mood today. Try not to cause any diplomatic incidents before the end of the tournament."

* * *

The next day brought along more fights, more clanging of sword against hauberk, more snide comments from Lady Drusilla to Lady Morgana and Gwen.

"Does the infernal noise not disturb you two?"

She'd woken up with a striking headache and it was nowhere near better by the time Sir Ewan fought Sir Valiant. Both men went at it merrily and with much ardor. This fight was a close match, and the crowd was enthralled.

"Maybe you should go lie down, Lady Drusilla."

Gwen, always the nicest, eyed Drusilla with a concerned, almost motherly look. The young lady had always been slightly built and pale, as far as she could remember, and always a bit sickly-looking. That impression was often offset by the girl's bubbling energy and her quick wit, but today, little Drusilla of Monmouth looked very much ill, and Gwen would have bet it was the tournament that was ailing her.

"Maybe I will ... Or at the very least I should go see Gaius. He might have something for me."

The crowd erupted in loud cheers at this very moment. Sir Valiant had won his fight. Sir Ewan, however, was still on the ground, completely immobile. After only a short moment, Master Gaius entered the arena wit his medicinal bag in hand. Lady Morgana sighed.

"Looks like Gaius might be a bit busy for now."

She looked sideways at her friend. The girl really was looking ill. Morgana patted her arm gently with a reassuring smile.

"Go on, get some rest. It's better that you miss today's fighting than tomorrow's final and the champion's banquet."

With a grateful smile, Drusilla bid goodbye to her friends and to the king nearby, and walked back up to the castle and her room, far away from the sounds of fighting.

* * *

Gwen came by later that day, bringing up a light lunch of stew, cheese and warm bread.

"Gwen, what are you doing here? You're not my lady's maid."

The servant girl chuckled as she set down the tray on the table. Dru stood from her window seat, came and sat down to eat.

"Maybe, but Morgana wanted to know how you felt. I thought you were supposed to rest. What were you reading?"

Drusilla tucked in happily, until now unaware of how hungry she had been. The stew smelled divine!

"Reading is restful, Gwen. Especially the history of the kings of the Western Isles. Trust me, I fell asleep over it! Twice!"

Gwen could not help but laugh. Lady Drusilla had grown up in the Archives with her uncle Geoffrey, and she was more at home among the parchments and heavy tomes than with actual people. But she already seemed much better than earlier.

"Do you think you'll feel well enough for the final tomorrow? It's Arthur against Valiant. Morgana is beside herself with excitement."

A small ball of unease set itself in the pit of Drusilla's stomach at the thought of the prince fighting the aggressive knight.

"Promises to be a fight I should not miss, doesn't it? I'll turn in early and I should be right as rain by the morning. Thank you, Gwen. I'll see you tomorrow!"

Gwen had already been on her way out the door with the empty food tray, but she turned and nodded to her friend again as she left.

* * *

The morning brought along its slew of surprises, as Drusilla quickly learned from Gwen and Morgana while they sat in the stands, waiting for the final fight to begin.

While she had been resting quietly in her rooms, Arthur's new manservant had accused Valiant of using a magic shield to cheat in the tournament. Apparently Sir Ewan had been ready to corroborate the whole affair, until he - very suddenly - died of his wounds in Gaius's chambers. Nevermind how strange that sounded, since Master Gaius could cure any and all ills, but then the king had almost sent the boy to the dungeons. It was Valiant, of all people, who had changed Uther's mind.

"... and he just assumed Arthur had been trying to get out of the final? Ohhh, that must've not sat well with Uther!"

Morgana snorted, an unladylike sound that usually only Drusilla made.

"It didn't sit well with Arthur either. He insists on going through with it and showing his valor."

Under the icy sneer and the exasperated tone, Morgana was truly worried for the prince and her friend noticed. Drusilla patted Morgana's arm.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Arthur is not exactly inexperienced in combat, as he likes to point out so very often."

That got a chuckle from both the king's ward and her lady's maid.

"That manservant of his ..."

"Merlin?"

Drusilla looked up to Gwen behind her.

"Is that his name? You know him?"

Gwen rolled her eyes with a small grin.

"All the servants know each other to an extent, Drusilla."

"He's ... strange, isn't he?"

Gwen blushed and giggled.

"He's ... he definitely is not like most people we know."

With suddenly round eyes and a widening smile, Drusilla almost stood to stare at the lady's maid in the eyes.

"And you're fond of him! Ohhh, I can see it all over your face, Gwen! You like Arthur's manservant!"

Morgana cleared her throat softly.

"Former manservant."

Both girls turned around and squawked.

"What?"

"What?"

The lady nodded.

"Arthur dismissed him after this whole debacle. Can't really blame him for that either. When I went to see him this morning, _Morris_ was back."

That statement was met with grunts of displeasure from Drusilla and Gwen. Morris was a diligent valet, alright, but the man had a habit of leering at every girl he saw. None of the girls had been sorry to see him summarily dismissed at the last banquet.

The trumpets were heard, making the ladies jump, and the fight began. Arthur fought brilliantly, as was his habit, soon knocking Valiant's helmet off. The crowd cheered, the three girls among them. Arthur took off his own helmet and the fight resumed.

Both knights were well matched, but Valiant managed to disarm Arthur and to step on his shield. Morgana grabbed Drusilla's hand right then, squeezing the fingers tight. Drusilla squeezed back just as tightly. Valiant was pinning Arthur against one of the walls of the arena, but the prince managed to get out of the tight spot, putting a safer distance between him and his adversary. Drusilla let out a pent up breath.

Suddenly, the snakes on Valiant's shield began to move of their own accord, painted figures come to life. There was a collective gasp as everyone in the crowd saw. _Magic._

"He's using magic!"

King Uther Pendragon was now standing up, pointing accusingly to the dishonorable knight. Valiant and Arthur seemed to exchange words, the latter showing off his cocky smirk for the first time since the beginning of the fight, then Valiant, the traitorous sham, sent his snakes onward to kill the prince. Arthur was backing up to the wall, the pair of green snakes slithering towards him, almost right in front of Drusilla. Luckily for everyone involved, Morgana was a quick thinking lady. She grabbed the sword of the guard next to her...

"Arthur!"

... and tossed it out to the prince, giving him a fighting chance. Arthur quickly dispatched the snakes and ran Valiant through. For once, Drusilla did not feel sick to her stomach at the sight of such actions in the arena. She cheered the prince along with the rest of the crowd and a very relieved king Uther.

* * *

The hall had been lavishly decorated for the champion's banquet. Drusilla was idling around the room, a cup of sweet wine in hand, watching as the king called forth his son the champion.

"My honorable guests, I give you Prince Arthur, your champion."

Amidst the applause, Arthur gallantly offered Lady Morgana his arm. It seemed one of the few times these two could interact civilly.

"My lady."

Morgana curtsied gracefully, something Drusilla was highly envious of, and took Arthur's arm.

"My champion."

As the pair took a stroll about the room, chatting and soon enough bickering as they always did, the young lady spied her dear Gwen standing next to the - obviously reinstated - dark-haired manservant. A grin spread on Drusilla's small face at the sight, glad that things seemed to be going well on that front too. Sipping from her cup, Lady Drusilla of Monmouth thought that life in Camelot could not get any better than this.

* * *

 **A/N: Obviously that girl is sorely mistaken! We'll rattle her cage soon enough ...**

 **Hope you have fun reading that new perspective on one of my favorite series EVER!**

 **R &R to make the author type faster!**


	3. The Beast in the Water

**A/N: Hi there! New followers this month, you guys are motivating me! I just got back from watching Bohemian Rhapsody and. It. Is. A-mazing! Highly recommend it to one and all. In the meantime, let's go on and see what's up in Camelot, shall we?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of its characters, obviously. If I did, Lancelot would have been a tap-dancing knight.**

* * *

Geoffrey of Monmouth was _technically_ not a proper noble anymore. He'd given up his title to his younger brother Sir Gregor to live a life of philosophical enlightenment, pursuing knowledge as Master Archivist of Camelot. His sacrifice had paid off, however, the position granting him the same access to the Council as his old title would have, and more than anything the ear of the king, a rare privilege he shared with Master Gaius, the Court physician. Both men were now in the Council Chambers, along with king Uther and a dead body.

"What's happened to him?"

Gaius bent down to examine the man, and Geoffrey could almost hear the strain on his old friend's knees.

"I don't know, Sire. It is the second case I've seen today."

"Why didn't you report it to me?"

Gaius looked up, one of his bushy eyebrows rising.

"I was attempting to find the cause."

"What did you conclude?"

The king must have been nearly frantic to ask questions at this speed to one of the few he trusted more than anyone.

"I don't think it's time to hurry to conclusions. The scientific process is a long one."

That, apparently, was not the right thing to say.

"What are you concealing from me?"

Gaius remained calm, proof that he had been dealing with the irascible king for a long time.

"Sire, I have seen nothing like it. The victims are dying in 24 hours, and it's spreading fast."

King Uther began pacing.

"What is the cause?"

Gaius and Geoffrey exchanged a severe look before the Court physician spoke.

"I think you should say the the cause, the most likely cause, is sorcery."

As always, at the mere mention of sorcery, the king chose the immediate offensive, pulling his son aside to whisper instructions.

"We must find who did this."

The young prince nodded.

"I will, Father."

"Conduct door to door searches. Increase your presence in the town. Double the guards on all the gates. And lend the physician your servant."

Arthur, who had been dutifully nodding to all his father's requests, suddenly stopped and stared at Uther, incredulous. Said servant had been standing at Gaius's side, completely ignored until now.

"Merlin? But..."

The king would not take any objections.

"We need Gaius to find a cure. He needs all the helps we can give him. If Gaius is right, believe me, this city will be wiped out. This is the kind of magic that undermines our authority, challenges all we've done ..."

Geoffrey was impressed by the king's discourse, and wished he'd brought his darling niece along. She could have written it down for posterity.

"... If we cannot control this plague, people will turn to magic for a cure. We have to find this sorcerer, and quickly."

There was only one thing to answer to such an impassioned tirade.

"Yes, Father."

* * *

"Drusilla? Child, where are you?"

 _Where you left me an hour ago and where I always bloody am, Uncle Windbag!_

Her uncle's harried voice was rarely rising in the archives, a place he considered to be nearly sacred. _Must be bloody important._ With a sigh, Drusilla put down her armful of patents of nobility - which she should have re-shelved at least a week ago after the tournament - and walked out of the small room into the main archives.

"I'm here, Uncle! What is it?"

Geoffrey relaxed a smidge when he saw his niece walking towards him between the rows of bookshelves, her black braids swinging left and right behind her, the sleeves of her green dress pushed back up to her elbows.

"I need you to find information for me. There is a grave illness spreading in the Lower Town. Master Gaius will certainly need to consult our archives. Can you gather all the information we have on illnesses with these symptoms?"

He handed her a short list on a piece of paper. It had clearly been written by someone else's hand. It was not Geoffrey's flawless writing, nor was it in Gaius's illegible scrawl. It was messy, with ink spots and scratches, but with round, widely spaced letters.

Geoffrey harrumphed next to her and Drusilla turned her head back to him.

"It would be wise to look everywhere in our library. And I do mean ... every section."

He had only whispered it, his eyes shifting nervously left and right, but it felt to her like a clap of thunder. Drusilla nodded, took the small silver key he was dangling in front of her and hurried into the depths of the royal archives.

Not all of the archives were accessible to the public. There were obviously some restricted sections, with documents so old and fragile, only an expert hand could touch them.

But there was another section, not only cordoned off but locked up by an iron gate, in which even the young lady had never been allowed. This highly restricted room contained all the written records of magic in the kingdom. Spell books, chronicles of warlocks and witches and their deeds, records of the customs and beliefs of the Old Religion, and even a history of the dragons and Dragonlords in the land. Everything that had to do with magic before it was banished, or that could inspire someone to try their hand at it, was locked away in this dusty chamber. And Drusilla now had the key.

* * *

''Merlin do this, Merlin do that, Merlin polish my armor, Merlin clean my room ...''

Merlin was stomping to the castle's archives room hurriedly, all the while grumbling about Prince Arthur and his extensive - and oh!-so-intrusive - search of his room earlier. That had been a close call, and surely he would suffer Gaius's remonstrances for years to come.

Luckily for him, Arthur was not as much of a prat as Merlin gave him credit for. As soon as he'd been 'given over' to Gaius, Arthur had taken him aside and ordered the gangly boy to come to him with any request from the old man. 'Anything Gaius might need to end this plague' were his exact words. Arthur could not sit idly and watch his people suffer, and if lending his bumbling manservant to the Court Physician would help, then so be it.

Merlin made it to the entrance of the archives room, expecting to see Geoffrey of Monmouth seated in his hardback chair, dozing off over some obscure manuscript, but the old man was not in sight.

"Hello? Geoffrey?"

No answer.

Merlin waited for a minute or two at the old man's desk, then curiosity led him into the maze of rows after rows of laden shelves, in search of the Master archivist. The boy had no idea the archives were so extensive. They seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, arched doorways hiding more rooms filled with books and rolled up parchments. If there was any kind of order in this labyrinth, he had no idea what it was. Worry began to bubble angrily in his chest. He had to find Geoffrey. Gaius had given him very specific things to search for and, if he did not find the archivist soon, he'd be forced to wander aimlessly among all the knowledge of the kingdom _ad vitam eternam_.

A shuffling sound brought him to a sudden halt. _Someone was walking in a nearby row._

Following the sound, Merlin came to the end of a row, only to find a large bundle of manuscripts walking his way at high speed. Before he could utter a sound, he was rammed into and fell, arms flaying uselessly, onto the hard stone floor. He shook his head left and right, trying to get his bearings now that he was on the ground. Amongst the dropped manuscripts was a girl about his age, doing the very same thing.

"Oof! Sorry, I didn't mean to barge into you like that ..."

She immediately began picking up the mess, stacking everything haphazardly in her arms. _Nice going, Drusilla! King Uther should use you as a battering ram!_ Merlin began helping her, grabbing parchments and manuscripts left and right.

"No no, it was me. I saw you coming, I should've moved out of the way ..."

She insisted, rolling her eyes at him.

"Oh please, it was absolutely and positively my fault. I knew I should've just made more than one trip ... Although I'm glad you're not uncle Geoffrey! He would've been so mad!"

Merlin thought for a moment that a mad Geoffrey the archivist was not easy to imagine. In front of him, Drusilla snickered at the thought of her uncle's nostrils flaring, the tell-tale sign of his wrath. He would've certainly sent her to the kitchens for this. _Again._

"Your uncle?"

The surprise in his voice made her pause. Still kneeling on the hard floor, she carefully balanced what she was already holding and extended a hand.

"Right. You're new here. I am Lady Drusilla of Monmouth, and I'm at my uncle's beck and call, obviously. The official title is assistant archivist and copyist, but let's be honest, I'm his lackey!"

She let out a loud snort that might have been a laugh. Merlin took her small hand in his and shook it vigorously.

"Well I'm Merlin, and I'm ..."

Recognition lit up her eyes as the pair stood, having picked up all the dropped items.

"Arthur's new manservant, right! I knew I had seen you somewhere. My deepest sympathies on getting stuck with him, by the way."

Merlin could not help but laugh at the pitying smile she gave him at the mention of the Prince. It took him a second to respond, balancing books and manuscripts in his hands clumsily.

"Let me help you with that, milady. Where're we going?"

Her arms full and a rolled up map under her chin, she led the way to a small room on the outskirts of the archives.

Unlike most of the archives, this room had a high ceiling with several hanging chandeliers and a stained-glass window that made colorful patterns on the floor and the tables. There were writing desks in the sunny patch, an inkwell and quill sitting on top of one, and a large table - it was more a workbench than a table, really - with maps spread out on it.

"Drop these over here, would you?"

Merlin followed her orders, still looking all about him at the shelves full of books and curios all around the walls. This room felt much more comfortable than the rest of the archives. It felt lived-in, and whoever lived in it enjoyed spending their time there and made efforts to make it their own. Part of his mind suspected that the young lady was that someone.

"So, Merlin. Nobody wanders in this dusty place without a good reason. What can I help you with?"

She had turned towards him and was rubbing her hands against her skirt. Without the pile of books in hand, she did look a bit more like a noble, in a simple - yet obviously expensive - green velvet dress with golden embroidered detail. Her hair - as black as his - was hanging in two braids behind her shoulders. Yet she lacked the flawless posture of the Lady Morgana and wore no glittering jewels, except a pair of small silver earrings. He nodded gratefully, glad that his prayer for someone to help him had been answered.

"Gaius sent me to do some research on this illness that's spreading in the Lower Town. D'you think you could point me to the right shelves?"

Drusilla smiled almost triumphantly at the dark haired boy, her arms extended to encompass the whole table.

"Well aren't you in luck, uncle Geoffrey asked me to do the same thing about an hour ago. I was just pulling out the last manuscripts when you found me."

Merlin chuckled incredulously. _Lucky indeed!_ Drusilla immediately set to work, quickly separating the small mountain of documents in three, talking to him all the while.

"This first pile has information about ailments and sicknesses. You can start looking through these, try to find those with the same symptoms. The second pile is documents and maps of the Lower Town, anything in there might help us know how it's spreading. And this one ..."

She stopped herself and eyed Merlin suspiciously. He noticed because he looked up from the tome he had just opened to stare back at her.

"What? What's the third pile about?"

Drusilla fiddled nervously with the ends of one of her braids between her fingers, looking around as if she thought there might be spies hidden behind the bookshelves. Merlin thought this girl made for a particularly strange noble lady.

"Alright, can you keep a secret?"

 _I don't know, can I?_ Merlin wanted to laugh out loud yet said nothing and only nodded, looking as serious as he could.

"I should not even have access to these. They're from the locked section of the archives, and it's only because the king is beyond worried that I was allowed to get them out."

She stopped again, worrying her lower lip between her teeth nervously. Merlin was equal parts curious and worried himself, so he looked her in the eyes and swore to take her secret to his grave. That seemed to do the trick.

"These documents are about magic."

"Magic!?"

The word had escaped him in surprise. He would have never thought that Camelot would have records about magic, not after the Great Purge. Drusilla slapped his arm lightly, eyebrows furrowed.

"Sing about it in the Banquet Hall, why don't you! I told you I'm not supposed to even know these exist, let alone share it with you. We've barely met a minute ago!"

"Then why did you?"

That was a very legitimate question, one that Drusilla was asking herself at this very moment too. Part of the answer was that, if Gaius had sent Merlin up there to research the illness, then he could be trusted to know about its origins, be they mundane or magical. Other than that, she was really just too excited about her uncle trusting her to keep it to herself. She wanted to tell someone and that boy had suddenly appeared, with a perfect reason for her to share this with him. It might seem a bit too convenient, even. _What if this boy couldn't be trusted? What if ...?_

He'd known about the knight's shield during the tournament. Before anyone had any idea, _he_ was ready to go to the king, talking about a magical shield and snakes that came to life on command. He'd lost his position as Arthur's manservant over it as well. Not only that, but he'd gotten that very position in the royal household by - spectacularly - saving the prince's life. As annoying as Arthur was on a daily basis, Drusilla would never have wished him harm. This boy - this ... Merlin - he had already proved to the court that he could be trusted. Arthur obviously trusted him, since he'd taken him back in his service after the tournament. Why wouldn't she trust that judgement?

 _Hang it, let's trust the strange big-eared boy._

"I don't know why, but I trust you. However, those are really old manuscripts, very fragile. So I'll be the one searching through that last pile. There's blank parchment on that shelf over there and I have another quill somewhere. We should note everything that we find, then you'll take it back to Gaius?"

With a grin, Merlin nodded and they set to work.

* * *

The pair worked mostly in silence, copying every bit of information they found that could pertain to the illness. Drusilla quickly realized that the note she had been given by her uncle was from Merlin's hand. She recognized the round letters, the spacing and the general messiness of the boy's note-taking. She sent side-eyed glances his way from time to time, finding another person's presence in her study hall mildly disturbing. Not many people came here, even less stayed to work alongside her. It was refreshing, however, to see someone else as absorbed as her in parchments and books.

Merlin was oblivious to the young archivist's scrutiny. He was busy deciphering a particularly incomprehensible passage of a science treaty on the spread of a plague long ago forgotten. It was nice to have someone else looking through the piles of manuscripts with him. The young lady seemed to know her way around the archives and their contents like the back of her hand, which would save him from hours of pointless work and a certain headache.

"Merlin? You said the disease has not spread out of the lower town yet, didn't you?"

He looked up and saw Lady Drusilla bent over one of the city maps. He'd tried to look them over earlier, but found he could barely make sense of the detailed plans, and left this part of their research to her. Now that he thought about it, Merlin felt a bit ashamed at the amount of work he was leaving to her. She was working through the city plans and the pile of books on magic - which she hadn't allowed him to touch, much to his unavowed annoyance - while he only had the first pile to work through.

"Yes, so far it's only affected the people down there. But if we don't find out how it's spread soon, it will reach the citadel."

"What did you find about that so far?"

Merlin looked over his notes, scratching his head. They were messy and he'd filled pages of random information in no order whatsoever. His eyes wandered to one of the pages she had filled out with notes next to his own. For a second he felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of the girl's flawless calligraphy. She wrote in small slanted letters, her lines always straight and without any ink blotches or crossing outs. He huffed in frustration.

"Can't find anything in there ... You've got a very good hand, you know. My notes are a mess, and yours are ..."

Her amused snort interrupted him. She was leaning her hip against the table, arms crossed and grinning.

"Goodness I hope so! Uncle's had me working on my calligraphy ever since I came here!"

That tidbit of information piqued Merlin's interest - _plus he would not mind a bit of a break._ He came to stand at her side, leaning against the table like her.

"Oh? And where were you before you came here, milady?"

"I was born in Deira, up North. My father was sent there on a diplomatic mission, and he ended up marrying one of the court ladies and founding a family."

Merlin noticed how Drusilla was absently rubbing at a leather bracelet on her left wrist. There was a large ring attached to it. _Curious jewel._

"What are you doing here in Camelot, then?"

He noticed her easy grin falling rapidly and tried to repair his obvious blunder.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It was ..."

She waved away his concern with a dismissive hand swat.

"It's fine. Really, Merlin. It is. I just haven't talked about that with someone for a long time."

With a sigh, she carried on, her eyes glued to the bookshelves in front of her.

"My parents were killed in an ambush in the woods, on the way back to Camelot for a visit. I was just six years old. I ... I hid under the carriage and the bandits never bothered to look, I guess ... I was found the next morning by a patrol and they brought me here, to my uncle Geoffrey. He's the only family I have now."

The pair stood in silence for a moment. Drusilla was blinking rapidly, aware that she had in fact _never_ spoken of the incident in the woods before. Everyone at Court had known about it already, so she had never needed to speak of it, and that had been fine. Saying things out loud made them feel too real, too close for her comfort. It was no good getting emotional right now, they had work to do. _Deflecting was the way to go, for now._

"What about you? What made you appear in Camelot? Surely you're not here just to serve the bloody prince!"

They both chuckled, the fog of long-buried sadness between them quickly evaporating.

"No, my mother sent me here so I could um ... study with Gaius. He's a distant relative ... Her uncle, I believe."

"So you want to be a healer, then?"

He bobbed his head noncommittally.

"Something like that, sort of."

She nodded decisively.

"Well, you couldn't find a better teacher. Gaius is the best physician there is, in the whole kingdom!"

Merlin acquiesced happily, already growing fond of the old physician - and of the young lady next to him as well, if he was being honest. Even though he had been sent to the archives to help stave off the spreading disease, he found he enjoyed the time spent with the strange young lady. Not only was she much warmer than any of the other nobles he'd already met in Camelot, but she was obviously very knowledgeable, a trait he could not help but admire. Knowledge was something scarce in his recent life.

"Alright, Merlin. Enough of that, let's get back to work."

As they got back to their quiet work, both had matching smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.

* * *

Merlin came back to the physician's rooms just in time to be interrogated by Gaius about a new victim in his chambers.

"I've got the information you asked for, Gaius."

The old man barely looked up from the body that lay on his table.

"Took you long enough. Didn't you ask Geoffrey for help?"

Merlin dropped his papers on the table, nearly upsetting a phial of belladonna extract. He righted it hurriedly, hoping the physician would not notice the blunder.

"He wasn't there, but his niece ..."

At that, Gaius unfolded himself with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes. You had yet to meet the Lady Drusilla. And I guess that she's the reason for your tardiness?"

Merlin could have blushed at the tone the old physician was taking with him, but he huffed and crossed his arms.

"She helped me search through all the archives for you and we copied anything we found pertinent. Maybe you'd like to read through it?"

He picked up the large pile of parchments and waved it in the air for emphasis. Gaius shook his head and went back to his business, pointing at the cadaver.

"In a moment, Merlin. What's different about this victim?"

Merlin, still clutching all the papers he and the Lady Drusilla had filled with possibly useful information in his hand, looked down to the body on the cot.

"Er ... She's a woman."

The old man did not seem impressed by the answer.

"Sometimes I do wonder whether your magical talents were given to the right person. Anything else?"

"Erm ... She's a courtier."

Gaius nodded.

"Ah."

Scratching his head, Merlin tried to reach the conclusion he was obviously supposed to.

"How does that help us?"

"Courtiers seldom go down to the lower town. So what does that mean?"

Merlin tried to come up with an answer as fast as he could.

"Erm ... That she hasn't spoken to any townspeople."

Gaius would need to help his young pupil on this one.

"Yes, it suggests the disease is not spread by contact."

Merlin carried on, trying to get to the end of the mental thread he was pulling.

"Oh! And they probably ate different food."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Hmm I doubt they breathe the same air."

Gaius urged Merlin on, eager for him to get to the point.

"So what's the only thing they do share?"

It only took a second for him to find the answer, especially after spending the morning with his head bent over the lower town plans.

"Water. Water? You think the disease is spread through water?"

Gaius finally looked at Merlin with a smile and a significant eyebrow rise, handing the boy a bucket.

"Merlin you're a prodigy. Get me a sample while I read through what you've found in the archives."

And on he went to the lower town well!

* * *

Lady Morgana rarely - if ever - went to Lady Drusilla's bedchambers, with reason, she realized now.

The rooms, not much different from her own in size or layout, were cluttered and messy and wholly unacceptable to receive guests in. Dresses, a great deal more than Morgana thought the girl owned, were strewn about on the furniture, her grey riding cape on the back of a writing chair. Books were piled up on the table, leaving only a small corner to eat on, large tomes had taken over the writing desk, and parchments filled with calligraphy and scribbles were sprinkled all over the reigning chaos. A large fire was roaring in the hearth, making the room feel stuffy and far too hot for a late spring evening. Morgana sighed.

Drusilla walked in a few minutes later, engrossed in a manuscript. She opened her door and walked in, never lifting her eyes, and let out a shriek of alarm when someone cleared their throat. The young lady looked up, hand over her hammering heart, to find her friend Morgana standing a foot away, arms crossed and an amused smirk on her face.

"Must be a bespelling read you've got there."

 _Bespelling indeed, it was a parchment on the magical exploits of Aethelfast the Fair, pinched from the secret archives!_

"Mor ... Morgana! Don't scare me like that, you madwoman! I could have died on the spot!"

The king's ward rolled her eyes at her friend's theatrics. _Trust Drusilla to make a mountain out of an anthill!_

"I didn't mean to startle you, I just need a little help with that blasted lacing."

She turned around and pointed to her dress and its complicated back-lacing. Drusilla instantly came over and began undoing the knots. She knew how uncomfortable those gowns could be after a long day. Which was why she often opted for plainer side-laced dresses herself.

"And why d'you need my help? Don't you have an absolutely lovely lady's maid for that?"

Morgana sighed.

"I gave Gwen some time off, her father's fallen ill ..."

Drusilla gasped behind her friend.

"What? No! Tom's sick? Is Gaius tending to him? Have they found a cure?"

Morgana could not give any satisfying answer to the girl's barrage of questions, sadly. No answer at all would mean plenty. As Morgana turned again to face her friend, the younger lady fell into her arms for a hug. Drusilla had always been an affectionate person, and it felt to Lady Morgana like a breath of fresh air, especially compared to King Uther, cold and stoic no matter what, or Arthur's callous boorishness. Both girls were growing dreadfully afraid of this illness that was wiping out the people of Camelot - and now was reaching the people they knew and cared about - and took whatever comfort they could find.

* * *

"Thank you, Drusilla. That ride was the best idea."

They were walking down the hallway at a brisk pace, Drusilla - in her riding clothes and still a bit winded from their early morning ride - holding a green cambric dress in her arms. Both young ladies had decided to help each other with the numerous changes of clothes of their day, so that poor Gwen could have as much time at her father's side as possible. The pair were just reaching Morgana's bedchambers when they saw the open door and heard Arthur's voice.

"... of the laws of Camelot, that you did practice enchantments."

They could not get inside fast enough. What they saw was Gwen being manhandled by a pair of guards, panic growing in her brown eyes. Morgana started.

"Gwen?"

The lady's maid struggled against the guards.

"But what have I done? I haven't done anything!"

She turned her eyes to Morgana and Drusilla, pleading.

"Help me, please!"

Drusilla recovered from her shock first.

"Arthur, what's the meaning of this!?"

Morgana followed immediately.

"What are you doing?!"

Arthur glanced at the pair of noble ladies, standing on the threshold, unitedly glaring at him.

"I found a magical poultice in her home."

Morgana scoffed loudly, crossing her arms.

"Oh, that's ridiculous!"

The prince snapped back with a ready retort.

"Then how do you explain her father's recovery?"

Drusilla, who'd spent the last few days engrossed in all kinds of medical manuscripts, began counting the possible answers on her fingers.

"His constitution, what he ate or drank, perhaps Tom had not been as severely infected as the other victims, he may have caught some other illness and not this plague, the disease might be losing its potency ..."

At her side, Morgana kept talking as well.

"She's innocent. I know she's innocent!"

Arthur cut both of them and their cacophonous arguing with one quick gesture.

"What can I do? I can't turn a blind eye!"

And just like that, he left the room, followed by the guards who were still holding a pleading Guinevere between them.

"Arthur, wait!"

Drusilla, refusing to give up, ran after the prince and grabbed at his arm.

"Arthur Pendragon, listen to me! You can't do this!"

With a glare, he shrugged her hand off.

"I have to, Drusilla. King's orders."

Meanwhile, Gwen's pleas were attracting attention. The young archivist saw Master Gaius and Merlin staring from a crossing hallway. At the sight of the old man, an idea came to her. _Maybe Gaius could convince the king to let Gwen go?_

With that in mind, Drusilla stopped running behind Arthur and turned towards the physician's chambers.

* * *

"... they think Gwen's a sorceress! They think she caused the disease!"

Raised voices reached her through the oak door. She was evidently not the only one upset about Gwen's predicament.

"But she didn't!"

"Oh and how are you going to prove that?"

The door opened violently and a flustered Merlin almost barreled into a stunned Drusilla, her hand still poised to knock.

"Oh! Lady Drusilla. Wha-what are you ...?"

She cleared her throat daintily.

"I ... I want to help Gwen. I know she can't really be a sorceress. She's not evil. She can't have set this disease on the city. Gaius, won't you plead with the king, please?"

Merlin moved away from the door and let the young lady in. She all but ran to Gaius.

"You're the foremost expert on magic in Camelot. The king will listen to you. Gaius, please tell him Gwen's not an evil sorceress!"

The old man shook his head in defeat. Drusilla had never before seen the physician defeated. Gaius never gave up, no matter what. The old man had been a comfort in her life ever since her own arrival to Camelot a decade ago. _If even he could not make the king see reason, things were looking truly bleak!_

"Drusilla my dear, I will evidently do everything I can for Guinevere. But unless this disease is repelled, I'm afraid there isn't much we _can_ do."

The young lady felt the back of her eyes prickling. Gwen - poor, _poor_ Gwen! - almost lost her father, and now that he was healthy again, she was accused of witchcraft. _How unfair was that?_

"There must be something! I can't believe that Uther will have an innocent killed, it would be murder!"

The Court physician sighed. The distraught girl was too young to know much about the Purge and all it entailed, about the king's very own kind of madness. Sorcery was nothing short of taboo in the kingdom, and if Uther ever caught even the faintest whiff of magic it would surely mean a swift death for everyone implicated, fairness be damned. Another wave of uneasy concern came over the old man when his eyes landed on his ward. The determined glint that had just appeared in the boy's eyes was enough to make his own worry spike and he only patted the Lady Drusilla's head softly, offering a smidge of comfort.

* * *

"Waterborne diseases ... What do we have on that?"

She was back in her personal study hall - no matter how much her uncle Geoffrey kept protesting that it wasn't hers alone - reading over some of the notes she'd taken with Merlin, trying to find anything that would help Gwen. Gaius had mentioned the cause of the illness must be linked to Camelot's water supply, and the guards had already cut it to ensure no one else would get sick, but how could they stop this plague? The only thing she could find were several mentions of 'cleaning' or 'purifying' the water. _And how does one do that, hmm?_

She groaned in frustration. _If only books could speak out loud!_ She could ask them directly, instead of rifling through useless tomes for hours on end. For the first time since she had been allowed to roam the archives, Drusilla felt helpless and lost in the middle of all that knowledge.

"Lady Drusilla? Are you in here? Lady Drusilla?"

 _Who in the name of Camelot would be looking for her? And who would even use her bloody title?_ Seconds later, Arthur's manservant appeared in the arched doorway, breathless. _Ah._

"Merlin? Why are you running? Has something happened to Gwen?"

She was already halfway out of her chair by the time he got enough breath in him to answer.

"Not yet but I need your help. Those plans of the lower town ... The ones that showed the water well ... We need them, Gaius and I. We're going down there to find out the source of the disease."

While he spoke, Drusilla all but ran to the workbench on her right and began rifling through the numerous rolled up maps she'd pulled out a day ago. She found the one she was looking for with a triumphant 'a-ha!' and spread it out for Merlin to see.

"Got it."

Merlin, suddenly right at her side, grinned.

"Great, can I borrow this? We'll bring it ..."

"What? No!"

The gangly manservant stopped, his hands hovering over the precious parchments, and stared at her for a beat.

"Why not? As soon as we know what's causing the disease, we can tell the king and he won't burn Gwen! We need the plans."

The raven-haired girl shook her head no, arms crossed.

"I know but ... These maps are some of the most precious documents in the archives. I can't let you take them, Uncle Geoffrey would have my head on a spike!"

Merlin gave a frustrated groan, hands pulling at his shaggy hair.

"But we need them! We can't let Gwen die!

"I know that ..."

"Then just hand me the plans. I promise I'll take care of them. I'm sure your uncle would understand, if you do it to save a life ..."

She could not suppress the bark of cynical laughter that came at that.

"You don't know him much, that's for certain!"

Facing Merlin's desperate, tear-filled eyes, however, was just a little too hard for the young lady. As he turned around to go, an idea - a ridiculous, mad idea - blossomed in her mind.

"Wait."

The gangly boy spun around and eyed her, not daring to be hopeful. She began stammering, trying to etch out her own idea properly as she spoke.

"I can't ... I can't let you get the plans out of the archives."

Merlin was already frowning by the time she finished her first sentence and started her second one.

"What I can do is ... well, I can take you down there myself."

The incredulous look he gave her would have been priceless, really.

"What?!"

"Look, I have a good memory ... Not just good, great in fact. I already know most of those plans on the tip of my fingers. If you give me ... say an hour, I can memorize the way down there properly and you and Gaius won't even need the damn plans at all!"

Merlin was far from convinced. Gaius would certainly have a few choice words for him if he let a noblewoman - _or noblegirl? Was that even a word?_ \- go along with them.

"I don't know ... Gaius won't like it."

"He doesn't have to like it. It's the only way I can see for you to do this."

Then again, she was raising a very good point. He nodded.

"Alright, can you meet us in an hour, you think?"

The young copyist nodded emphatically, her braids swinging behind her.

"Absolutely. Positively sure. Now go, let me study those plans."

"Thank you!"

Merlin grinned at her before running back out as fast as he'd come in. Drusilla grinned too as she bent over the spread out map.. _She was going on an adventure!_

* * *

Merlin opened the door to the physician's rooms an hour later to find Lady Drusilla on the doorstep. She had pinned her braids tightly to her head, and wore a - very plain - brown plaid dress and sturdy riding boots. Merlin grinned.

"Why do I have a feeling you're fairly used to sneaking around the castle, milady?"

Drusilla grinned right back, shaking her head left and right.

"I will neither confirm nor deny your suspicions, young man."

Gaius came to the door before either of them could say another word.

"Merlin, don't just stand there, move along ... Lady Drusilla? What can I do for you, my dear? Are you ill?"

Drusilla turned her surprised gaze onto the dark haired boy in front of her.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

Merlin looked the exact definition of embarrassed at the moment, scratching the back of his neck, his ears - _those really were big ears!_ \- flaring red.

"Um, I hadn't ... hadn't gotten to that part."

Gaius eyed the pair suspiciously, one eyebrow raised.

"And what was it you haven't told me yet, Merlin?"

The boy began stammering an answer, but Drusilla cut to the chase.

"That I would be leading you into the tunnels. Couldn't take the castle plans out of the archives, you know my uncle. Merlin here didn't stand a chance."

They both expected the old physician to protest, but Gaius only nodded gruffly and waved a hand to her.

"Very well. Lead the way, Drusilla my dear."

The trio went down to the outer wall, and found the small gate that would lead them to the city's water supply. Just as the plans had foretold. They came up to the first of many forks and intersections. Merlin stood right behind Drusilla, manning the torch, and he could hear her muttering under her breath.

"Left here, then right, and another right ..."

In the dim light of the torch he could see her fingers twitching oddly as she counted on them. The gangly boy chuckled under his breath. She had literally learned the path down here on the tips of her fingers!

After a good long descent, which made Merlin wonder if they were perhaps getting any close to the dragon's cave, they arrived at the underground pool. Gaius took over the torch from his ward.

"The water from here supplies the whole town. Take a sample."

Merlin took a small vial from Gaius's outstretched hand and immersed it. Meanwhile, Drusilla eyed the moving shadows the flickering torch was throwing against the walls, an uneasy feeling creeping up her spine.

"Let's take it back and examine it."

Drusilla's curiosity was piqued when the physician spoke of examining the water, but before she could ask a single question, _something_ reared out of the water. The three of them jumped back, Merlin - having been the closest to the water - the farthest away. It had only appeared to them for an instant, but the young archivist had had an impression of a lumpy dark body, and teeth, rows of pointy teeth. As fast as it had appeared, the creature disappeared in the dark waters again, leaving them breathless and - in her case, at least - terrified.

"What the hell was that?!"

The gangly manservant's exclamation expressed her own feelings perfectly.

* * *

"Here. It was an Afanc."

"A what?"

Merlin's and Drusilla's voices had risen in perfect unison, asking the same question. Merlin had been pacing the room left and right, while Drusilla had been sitting near the hearth, fiddling with the leather strap tied around her wrist. Attached to it was her father's ring, and she could not help but wish for him to be here at the moment. Sir Gregor of Monmouth would have gladly dispatched any magical monster that came near his darling daughter.

"A beast born of clay, and conjured only by the most powerful sorcerer."

Gaius's cluttered rooms had never felt so warm and welcoming to Drusilla. She was glad for the fire burning and the herbs hanging in boughs from the ceiling. It kept the ugly image of the creature - which now had a name - at bay.

"Now we have to find a way to defeat it. But where?"

The old physician was eyeing his extensive collection of books doubtfully. Merlin moaned, hands raking through his inky black hair.

"That could take days. Gwen'll be dead by then."

Gaius was not about to let himself be bullied by his own ward. He glared at the boy.

"Have you got better idea?"

Grabbing his coat, Merlin hurried out of the rooms without another word, like a man on a mission. In the silence that followed, Gaius and Drusilla stared at the door, both dumbfounded by the boy's rash actions.

"Does he often do that?"

The old man's put upon sigh answered her well enough.

* * *

"Morgana?"

The young archivist had been helping Gaius with the research on the Afanc for the last few hours, and was on her way back to her own rooms for a quick nap when she came across her friend. The king's ward was hurrying down to the physician's chambers, desperate to find someone who could help save Gwen.

"Drusilla, come with me. Uther wants to execute Gwen tonight. We have to do something."

She grabbed the other girl's arm and dragged her down the stairs with her. _No nap, then._ The pair burst in through the doors in the middle of a discussion between Gaius and Merlin.

"They're bringing forward the execution. We have to prove Gwen's innocence."

Gaius glared at the girls who had just barged in, praying they had not heard too much of his conversation with Merlin.

"We're trying."

 _Didn't she know it!_ She had been down there with the old man, rifling through the books he'd accumulated in a lifetime of study, trying to find anything that might help them destroy an Afanc, to no avail. Morgana, at her side, was getting desperate.

"Please, just tell me what I can do to help."

Merlin immediately answered.

"We need Arthur."

Both girls were taken by surprise.

"Arthur?"

Merlin walked to the table, showing Morgana the passage they'd found about the creature.

"There's a monster, an Afanc, in the water supply. That's what's causing the plague."

"Well we must tell Uther."

Morgana turned back to the door, but Gaius stopped her.

"The Afanc's a creature forged by magic. Telling Uther won't save Gwen. He'd just blame her for conjuring it."

The king's ward deflated remarkably fast.

"So what are we to do?"

Merlin's voice was firmer than she'd ever heard it before.

"We need to destroy it. Then the plague will stop and Uther may see sense."

Morgana caught on, her face taking on a scheming expression.

"And that's why you need Arthur."

"He's our best chance. But he won't want to disobey the king."

Drusilla could see her friend's best devious smirk growing by the second.

"Leave that to me."

Morgana then left the chambers, heading purposefully for the prince's chambers. Meanwhile, Drusilla eyed Merlin and Gaius from across the table laden with books.

"Have we found a way to kill it, then?"

Both men exchanged a look. Gaius sighed.

"It's only a hunch, I'm afraid. But since the Afanc is a creature of water and earth, it seems only natural that it would be destroyed by the other two basic elements of nature. It's a simple science, really."

Part of Drusilla felt very unsafe at the idea of returning to those dark tunnels on a simple hunch, but the situation was dire. Gwen would die if they did not succeed. _Better a hunch than nothing at all!_

Lady Morgana brought Arthur down to them quickly, and would not hear a word about staying behind.

"Gwen's my lady's maid. If anyone has reason to go down there, it's me."

Wisely, Gaius and Arthur refrained from commenting.

* * *

Drusilla led them down the tunnels again, flanked by Morgana and Merlin. Arthur had insisted on taking the lead, sword in one hand, a torch in the other. He stopped at every crossing, ostensibly to check their surroundings, but really he was just waiting for Drusilla to tell him which way to go next. Their descent took longer than before, the group entirely too aware of a malevolent creature lurking in the shadows. The young archivist could feel her skin breaking out in goosebumps under her sleeves. She'd never had trouble being in underground chambers and tunnels before, but maybe she would after this.

"You'd better be right about this, Merlin."

 _Trust Arthur to complain, no matter what!_

Suddenly, from the depths of the tunnels, they heard a low growl. Morgana gasped and Drusilla instinctively grabbed the other girl's arm, getting closer to the light of the second torch, her eyes wide as she scanned the surrounding shadows. Arthur glanced back to the girls, and even in the near darkness Drusilla could see he was not treating this flippantly anymore. He nodded to the pair.

"You two should stay here."

He should have known they would argue indignantly.

"Alone in the dark with no weapons to defend ourselves? Great plan, Arthur."

He didn't need the light of the torch to know Drusilla was rolling her eyes at him as she spoke. However, the sarcasm could not hide the slight tremble of her voice. He knew she was frightened. Morgana's voice was more steady in his ears.

"We're coming with you."

"No."

The king's ward raised her chin in defiance.

"Scared we'll show you up?"

Arthur could not keep the exasperation from his voice.

"Father will slam the lot of us in chains if he knew I'd endangered you."

"Well good thing he doesn't know about it, then."

If Lady Morgana was only one thing, it was ever-ready with the perfect retort for the annoying prince. To his credit, Arthur tried his best to stay calm and be the voice of reason.

"I'm telling you, Morgana, turn back with Drusilla. You could get hurt."

"You could too ... if you don't get out of my way."

Morgana shoved him aside and took the lead without a single look back. Merlin was greatly amused by this, he had to admit. _Seeing Arthur being verbally lashed was sure to be the highlight of his week!_

Drusilla could not keep herself from adding to Arthur's misery.

"I'm curious, Arthur. How exactly did you expect to find your way in here without me?"

The prince only huffed in annoyance and the group carried on in silence, until Morgana raised a very good point.

"How are we going to find it?"

Merlin muttered under his breath.

"I just hope we find it before it finds us."

Those words sent another unwelcome shiver up Drusilla's spine. Just as she was taking a deep breath to calm herself, Arthur spun around, tense.

"Stop."

Drusilla tensed, again grabbing onto the nearest arm, which happened to be Merlin's. The boy did not even notice, his attention focused on the tunnel ahead.

"What?"

A tense second passed by, then another.

"It's just a shadow."

Arthur exhaled, relaxing a smidge before forging ahead. Lady Morgana kept advancing, head high and torch firmly in hand. Merlin gave his new friend a small reassuring smile as he followed the other two.

 _Go on, you coward! Forward!_ Drusilla's fear of being alone in the dark tunnels was the only reason she was still advancing along with the others. Her nerves were humming and her muscles tense. _How stupid of her to insist on going where she had no reason to be!_ Next time, she would stay in the archives, where she belonged.

They reached the water supply without any other incidents, only to find it uninhabited. Arthur told them to spread out, making the young archivist curse her foolishness under her breath again. _Why oh why had she wanted to be in the thick of things?_

Staying near Morgana, she inched her way into one of the nearby tunnels. A loud roar was heard again, and Arthur yelped. In an instant, Drusilla and Morgana had rejoined him as Merlin appeared from another tunnel. Morgana quickly checked Arthur, seeing no obvious wound. **  
**

"What is it? Are you alright?"

The prince nodded to Morgana.

"Yeah."

Drusilla was very near biting her nails in abject worry. She could feel her own heartbeat in her throat and had to forcibly push the words past it to speak.

"Did you see it?"

"Yes."

They were now all looking around, mistaking every moving shadow thrown by their torches for a monster. Arthur was holding his torch high and wielding his sword, ready to strike, and Merlin had one hand on Drusilla's arm, keeping her near the wall.

"What did it look like?"

"It - It's quick!"

There was a tinge of alarm in Arthur's voice, which was enough to make Drusilla's worry spike up again. _If even the one holding a weapon was scared ..._

The four of them were going in circles, trying to see the beast approaching, yet they did not see it until it was almost in front of Morgana, who let out a scream. On instinct, the young archivist flattened herself against the nearest wall, a hand on her mouth to keep from screaming right along with Morgana. _What in the blazes was she thinking, going down there?_ _She was going to die, half-eaten by a magical monster, she just knew it!_ She saw Arthur run towards the creature with his sword in hand, then stop. The Afanc had disappeared in the darkened tunnels again.

"Where is it?"

They kept turning in circles, until Merlin edged into one of the larger tunnels, straining to hear something.

"I think it's gone this way!"

Drusilla pulled herself from the safety of the wall and followed the others, holding tightly onto Morgana's free hand. The king's ward was holding onto hers just as tight. Arthur had taken the lead again, Merlin following him closely, and the girls were closing the group with the second torch held up and an ear out for any noise coming from behind them. They reached one of the many junctions between two tunnels and, as Arthur and Merlin were checking both sides, a snarling came from the left tunnel. Moments later, the Afanc appeared, slowly making its way towards the light of their torches. That was the first good look Drusilla could get at it, and she immediately wished she had closed her eyes. The beast was a misshapen mass of clay, it's skin oozing dirty water, with small beady eyes and jaws full of long, sharp fangs.

It came directly at Arthur, who waited until the Afanc was right in front of him to strike. He stepped forward and swiped at the creature, but it struck him back. With a metallic clang that was almost drowned out by the monster's roars, Arthur lost his sword and moved back. Drusilla let out a whimper of fright. She felt a tugging on her arm. Morgana dropped her hand and inched herself forward, torch at the ready. The young archivist almost called to her friend, but it seemed to work. The creature had taken a step back when Morgana had brought her torch closer. _It could work!_

The Afanc charged Morgana and swiped at her, making her drop her torch. Before the beast could swipe at her again, Arthur was charging at it with his own torch - their last remaining one. That caught the creature's attention. Arthur began circling around it, thrusting the torch in its face, trying to corner it. Drusilla grabbed Morgana's arm and pulled her backwards, where she was standing with Merlin. The three of them watched as the prince was engaged in a strange game of push-and-pull with the creature, each inching forward, then back, trying - and failing - to get the upper hand. From behind her, Drusilla heard Merlin yelling.

"Arthur, use the torch!"

Moments later, just as Arthur was shoving the torch in the Afanc's ugly, opened maw, a strong wind came down the tunnels. It caught the flame of the torch, and for a second Drusilla was terrified that it would snuff it out, that they would be caught down here in the complete dark with an angered monster. Instead of extinguishing it, however, the wind made the flame grow brighter and larger, feeding it. The Afanc got caught in the growing inferno and, with a terrifying roar, it burned down and disappeared.

* * *

"Dad!"

"My little child!"

Seeing Gwen and Tom hugging was wrecking Drusilla's composure something fierce. She began blinking furiously and rubbing her nose against her sleeve, hoping no one would notice. Merlin's amused smirk next to her was proof that she had been noticed, unfortunately.

Gwen came to Morgana and Drusilla and clasped the girls' hands in her own. The young archivist could feel how much rougher her friend's hands were, especially compared to Morgana's delicate fingers. Drusilla's own hands were not as rough as Gwen's, but they were definitely not those of a proper noble lady either. For the first time ever, she found that her work in the archives made her different from her friend. She was pulled out of her momentary musings by Gwen's effusion of gratitude.

"Thank you! Thank you both!"

Before Drusilla could be overwhelmed by the sentiment in Gwen's eyes, Morgana shrugged off the whole thing gracefully.

"Don't thank us. It was mostly Merlin."

The manservant in question snapped out of his goofy grin when he heard his name. Gwen eyed him with new eyes, equal parts grateful and incredulous.

"Really?"

The Lady Morgana decided on the spot that Merlin's blushing face was one of the most adorable sights in Camelot and piled on the compliments.

"He's the real hero here."

Gwen scrambled for words.

"I-I don't know what to say."

Merlin shrugged, going red to the tip of his ears.

"I didn't do anything."

Tom, almost choked up by emotion, nodded to the trio.

"I'm - I'm grateful to you all. Come on, Gwen."

They exited the dungeon, arm in arm. Now that the pair had gone back to their lives, Drusilla's thoughts went back to the parchment in her left hand. She began slowly ascending the stairs, fiddling with the small piece of vellum. She wanted the others' opinion on it, but then again it was a bit embarrassing to ask.

"Merlin. I wanted you to know, your secret's safe with me."

Morgana's voice, still in the room a few steps below, came up to the girl's ears. _A secret?!_ She stopped climbing the stairs and listened intently.

"My secret?"

"Merlin don't pretend. I know what you did."

"You do?"

 _Was that a hint of panic in Merlin's voice?_

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"You did?"

 _What? What had she seen? What had Drusilla missed?_

"I understand why you don't want anyone to know."

O _hhh was it something shameful too?_

"Well obviously ..."

"But I won't tell anyone. You don't mind me talking to you about it?"

Drusilla couldn't help but think that she would get on the case of extracting information out of her friend the very moment they were out of the dungeons. _Not tell anyone, indeed!_

"Er ... no. I-I, it's, er ... You have no idea how hard it is to keep this hidden."

"Well, you can continue to deny it, but I think Gwen's a very lucky woman."

Drusilla could practically hear the smirk in Morgana's voice. _Gwen? Oh. Ohhh!_

"Gwen?"

"It's our secret."

Moments later Morgana appeared in the stairwell, grinning like a cat. Drusilla shook her head with a fond smile as she waited for her friend to catch up with her. Both ladies ascended the stairs back to the - more dignified - parts of the castle together.

"You shouldn't tease him like that. It's cruel."

Morgana made a dismissive gesture with her hand, an airy and elegant movement that made Drusilla green with envy. _Why couldn't she be that graceful too?_

"Oh please! It's adorable, really. Now what was on that parchment you kept fiddling with behind your back?"

As soon as they were out in the hallway, Arthur, who'd been lounging fashionably against the wall - _how often did he practice that pose in his bedchambers? She might have to ask Merlin about that_ \- strode over to them and kept pace easily.

"I saw Gwen and her father coming up ..."

All but ignoring the prince, Drusilla shrugged and handed Morgana the parchment she'd been scribbling on.

"Does this look like what we saw down there?"

There was a detailed sketching of the dreadful Afanc on the page. Morgana nodded, showing it to Arthur on her left, who nodded as well.

"Not bad, Drusilla."

"Yes, that's definitely what lurked in the water well. But why are you drawing it?"

She took back the sheet and set it aside in her pocket.

"Uncle Geoffrey wants me to write down an account of what happened. He says it might save lives if there ever is another plague like this one."

Arthur nodded, pensive.

"Good thinking, but let's hope there never is another one like that."

Drusilla nodded vigorously. She was hoping nothing as terrifying would happen to them for a long long time, better yet never. _That had been plenty of adventure for her!_

* * *

 **A/N: (insert evil laughter here) Muahahaha! We all know that her wish won't be granted, far from it! Bring on the poisonings and the foul magical beasties and the fake-noble knight-wannabes!**

 **Okay so, Merlin and Drusilla have finally met, and wasn't that a total meet-cute! I've been giggling like a little girl writing that part from first draft to final revisions ... And there will be much more giggle-worthy moments in this fic, ye be warned!**

 **I've started writing the next chapter, but with Halloween and Christmas prep already in full swing at home and at work, I'm afraid I can't guarantee that I'll post it anytime soon. In the meantime, keep reviewing, it's like holiday gifts in advance for me!  
**


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